


The Art of War

by The_vindico_atrum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Good Albus Dumbledore, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, Smart Harry Potter, Time Travel, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27539812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_vindico_atrum/pseuds/The_vindico_atrum
Summary: “There are perhaps many causes worth dying for, but to me, certainly, there are none worth killing for.”"That is because you are a coward. Not to mention a Gryffindor."he replied without losing a beat."Coward? Me?"he asks surprised."For all one knows, I am scared, but scared is what I am feeling. Brave is what I am doing."
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy & Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Art of War

**Author's Note:**

> It might feel a bit rushed, well because it was. And the first chapter is actually divided into two parts.  
> THis work is dedicated to my friend Shreyasi. Happy Belated Birthday.  
> I hope you like it puppy.

  
Fear.

  
Hunger.

Desperation.

They were vices that clutched the human heart, sinking its hooks at its core, locking itself into place; such that even if one tried to remove them by force, it would only just create wounds and holes deeper than there already was.

A person whose very soul had latched onto these things from an early age when given a chance of love and acceptance would hold onto them as a dying man holds onto his last breath, he would do anything to always keep them in his grasp.

But it was all just a vicious cycle; give a starving the lure of food, a red cap a lure of fresh blood, and he would be a slave to the offerer's commands, ready at his disposal to do anything it takes to latch onto his only hope. Always trying to gain, but even if he does, his soul was always drenched in the fear of not getting food again the next day; having his taste of food, he would always long for more, and that fear, that desperation would always cling to him, their claws set deep into his conscience, never allowing him to live but always survive.

As a child, he was never acknowledged, always given scraps of food, handed out punishments for failures which would be deemed ordinary by any other person.  
He had lived with those, fear, hunger, and desperation, as his primary emotions nearly all his childhood. Fear of rejection, hunger for acceptance, desperation for approval. That was the main reason why he remained quiet at all his time at the Dursleys.

He never quite believed in the authority figures, since they always chose to believe what they heard Aunt Petunia gossip, about him being a freak, that everyone always turned a blind eye towards him.

These turpuditions were what first motivated him to fight Voldemort; to hold close that love from his friends and that acceptance from Weasleys. It was the same fear of the perpetual darkness and cold that has been his constant companion from as long as he could remember, the hunger of his friends' love, that desperation of the perfect little world he had crafted with his friends.

But..........................

Was it enough.

Having nothing as he grew up made him cherish whatever he had. Being forced to maintain a garden, he came to love plants. Being at Hogwarts made him love that thrill, that endless adrenaline rush, that came from the progressively worse years.

Perhaps it could be called boredom. Most would call it the continuous monotonicity of regular life. 

It was neither. 

It was the lack of purpose that made him the way he was now, floating.  


Once, he used to pray and pray to get a peaceful school year, no maiming or torturing teachers, no end-of-year duels. That maybe, just maybe, the Defence Professor was just that.  
  
An ordinary professor.

Might be a snarky one like Snape; a droning one like Binns; a witty one like McGonagall; a kind one like Sprout or an excited one like Flitwick. 

But he understood now, that what made his schooling memorable were his adventures with his friends. Those little adventures of his were certainly a double-edged sword. It did quench his insatiable thirst, to do.....................

_something._

To make that blood pump in his veins.

To make his magic sing beneath his skin.

Though they were by no means pleasant at any rate and Merlin the fifth year, not to mention his sixth, he blinked back the sudden onslaught of tears that clouded his vision. 

He looked back at the parchments strewn across his desk, who knew being the Head of the Auror Department would include so much of the bloody paperwork. That desultory mind space of his might is one of the chief reasons for his incompetency in the Mind Arts. He sighed returning to the paperwork, still feeling adrift.

A year of being on the run had only honed his gut instinct. He could feel that something wrong was about to happen. He could feel the hairs at the nape of his neck standing up. 

A zap of energy shook the entire room or maybe even the entire Ministry. He braced himself against a desk, but somehow nothing even moved an inch in the room. He knew it had to do nothing with his magical focus. And that was when it got worse. As if triggered by my thinking, my magical focus started to .................

_fluctuate_ , for a lack of a better word.  
The shaking started to worsen. He started to fear that at this rate, the Ministry would collapse. 

And then _it_ appeared. This little ball of multicolored light. He had seen enough of Dudley's parties to know that <i>it</i> looked like one of those disco lights, smaller but a lot sharper as well. It stood silently. hovering over my bookshelf.

The door of my room suddenly burst open with Ron standing at the doorway.

**_" You look awful mate."_** he strutted inside my office the door limply falling shut behind him.

**_"Hey Ron, you look quite enchanting yourself,"_** The corner of his mouth gently quirked to what was supposed to be a smile.  
His shirt was rumpled and creased and was partially out of his trousers; which I coerced him to buy while we were at Hogwarts. If his hair wasn't red, one would have thought of him as a Potter. 

_**"What happened?"** _I asked bewildered trying to get my train of thought back on track.

_**"A massive earthquake by the look of it,"**_ he replied promptly. 

_**"The Wizarding Wireless was just yapping about how all the Magical households from Hogwarts to the Ministry experienced an earthquake which toppled over all the stuff of people. They said something about there being two epicenters instead of one; the Ministry and Hogwarts. "** _

So many questions ran through his mind before he settled on one.

_**" Only Magical households?"** _

_**"The muggles were not even affected."** _

_**" Only from Hogwarts to MOM"** _

_**"Not an inch elsewhere."** _

_**"You know for an earthquake your office looks pretty much the same."** _

He deliberately looked around the room. His gaze fell on that disco light thingy. Its sharpness had dulled considerably. 

_"What is that?"_

I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea myself.

_**"Things never do remain the same around you for long, do they?"** _

He grinned and for the first time in fifteen years, he looked the way he was back then, before the war, carefree and reckless. Observing Ron lit up a small smile on his face.

_**"Want to tell, 'Mione?"**_ Harry asked grimacing.

**_"No, mate. You can do the honor of explaining this to her yourself."_ **

The floo place of his office ignited and Hermione came tumbling out of it. None of her practiced poise was in sight. She looked quite worried. Eyes darting around wildly around the room, she looked ready to do anything to reach her goal. She finally spotted me behind the desk and Ron near the door. Seeing us maybe a little ruffled but completely unharmed, a glint appeared in her eyes. 

Hell, they were in for it now.

_" Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, "_ she screeched, she had been spending a lot of time with Mrs. Weasley, _**" Do you two have any idea how worried I was? All we at St.Mungos understood that every single thing in our room had been toppled over or broken due to a magical earthquake that occurred only from Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic those two being the epicenter of the said earthquake. And did either of you decide to floo call me or send a Patronus telling whether or not you were safe, nooooooooo?"** _

And that was why he loved Hermione, probably a little more than Ron. Only a little though. That spark in her, which drew him to her, the reason he chastised Ron after making her cry back in the first year, after all, many people at Hogwarts were upset, but he did not go out of his way to help anyone, trying hard to blend into the background myself. That spark, that light, it never died down. Even after Lavender's death, who died from a killing curse aimed at Hermione. Her death certainly took a toll on her, but even while mourning, she never lost her spirit, it just made her all the more determined. She returned to Hogwarts, managed to drag the two of us to Hogwarts too. Handling us a little too easily on her part. Just some insinuation here and there, a comment about us being like Malfoy, using our influence to get what we wanted and voila, one Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are attending Hogwarts; took her NEWTS and went on to pursue a Healing Mastery of all things. She became a very successful Mind Healer. Though she too was recovering from the horrors of the war, she tried to do her very best to help the Weasley family. Last I heard, after little Fred's birth, she had been able to help George produce some powerful wisps of the Patronus. 

The look on my face must be reflective of my thoughts. She stopped mid-rant, sighed, and plopped over the floor on the circular tiles marking the center of the room. She beckoned Ron to sit next to him. 

Seeing them sitting on the floor like that, just as we used to when we used to while discussing something, whether it had been Horcruxes or when any of us felt down; made me grin like a loon.

I went over to them and sat opposite to them, making a triangle, our trio complete, for the first time in many years. 

**_" So, what did you get yourselves in this time?"_ **

**_" Why do you always assume that I had to do something with it?"_ **

I asked petulantly, feeling like I am again a teen and at Hogwarts.

She just quelled my question with a look. 

I sighed in resignation and started hesitatingly, **_" I think, the earthquake's epicenter, might be this very room."_**  
  
Her eyes grew wide.

**"But I swear I was just doing my paperwork,"** I added hastily.

_**"I don't know what exactly happened,"**_ I said frowning slightly, **_" suddenly there was this earthquake, and then my magical focus went haywire and that thing, "_** I said pointing at the floating disco light, only to find it zooming towards us.

All of us jumped upright at our positions, our battle instincts kicking in wands ready in our hands, only to find it stopped just at the center of us three. Several moments passed.

Nothing drastic occurred.

We relaxed minutely.

'Mione was the first to pocket her wand, her hands grabbing both of ours. 

Something was off. I knew it, just like when I knew something dangerous was about to happen earlier this morning. 

**_"Relax mate. "_ **Ron said, clapping his hand on my shoulder, holding it tightly, as if grounding me to reality.

_**"No Ron,"**_ I emphasized, ** _" I know, something is not right."_**

_**"Everything is all right mate, "** _

'Mione and Ron's hands stiffened minutely. 

**_"Epic scare, mate,"_** Ron said just as I grasped at their joined hands, trying to reassure them or myself, I didn't know. 

Famous last words before my body started to lurch and spin in every direction as well as no direction at once.

I could feel myself land on a hard glossy surface.

* * *

_**"Have they woken up yet?"** _

_**"No."** _

This was possibly one of the most dramatic things that had happened at Hogwarts since Tom's departure. Tom's interview for the DADA position was one of the most arduous experience he had ever experienced. Not because he was inefficient or substandard in any regard, and there lied the problem. Why could he not be inadequate at something? It would have made his job of persuading Headmaster Dippet to not hire Tom much easier. He was dark and evil. He had known from the very first time he had met him. He could not be allowed to teach at Hogwarts and influence the pliable minds of the younger generation.

Just as I was able to cajole the Headmaster that hiring someone so young would be inappropriate; it appeared, a bright multicolored light spitting out three bodies on the Headmaster's table. My wand was out in seconds. But they appeared to be unconscious. A female and two males. They did not bore Grindelwald's mark. They were not spies. 

Thank Merlin for small mercies.

Tom was watching them with rapidly fading interest. I knew better than to believe any of his facial expressions. Knowing him as I did, he could probably plan murder with a perfectly charming smile on his face. 

**_"Perhaps we should take them to the Hospital Wing, Armando?"_ **The name falling perfectly from his lips as if he wasn't his Headmaster a few months ago.

_**"Yes, perhaps we should,"**_ I replied absently, various plans of action going over in my mind. After all, no one knew which side they might be on.

It might not be long now. Tom was out there, with boundless resources on his hands. After all, he knew more than anyone over here, war was something that a single person could not control.

_But.............._

_There was something about that child,_ he thought as he looked into the young, peaceful face of the shaggy-haired youth, _Well, not exactly child,_. He would be a key player, and he had to get him on his side, he could not let Tom have any influence on the world. He had to protect it from him. It was too precious, too gullible to directly fall in the hands of one such as Riddle. 

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Any criticisms? Questions? Please drop in a comment.


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